Hidden Truths
by newyork24-7
Summary: Even when kept silent the truth has a habit of breaking free. Sequel to Still Waters and a continuation of Charles and Elsie's story.
1. Chapter 1

**I didn't expect to have this up so quickly but here we are. This story is meant to be the continuation of the story between Charles and Elsie, picking up a little while after the events of Still Waters, which should probably be read first.**

* * *

_We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons._

* * *

**February 1893**

The knot in his tie was slightly off kilter and that simply would not do, a Butler must always look faultless, must always be faultless, there was no room for error. Even if the family he served could overlook a flaw, Charles Carson could not. He adjusted his tie, satisfied with his appearance now; satisfied that no-one would be able to cast aspersions on how he looked. He welcomed guests into the grandeur of Downton and so in-keeping with the standard of the house he must ensure that his standards were also flawless, he must be beyond reproach.

Stepping away from the mirror he moved out of his pantry and moved towards the bustle of the servant's hall. They stood immediately when he entered and his eyes scanned the table, looking for any flaws in their appearance, they represented the way he ran this house and the family that lived upstairs, he would not let his staff bring words of criticism onto this household, and so every morning he scrutinised them. And every morning his gaze would pause on Elsie Hughes, she was always immaculate of course, he never did pause to find any fault, he simply wanted to look at her without arousing suspicion. She would stare straight ahead as though she did not notice his perusal, her chin tilted upwards with a defiant air. His gaze would linger no more than a few seconds before continuing to observe the rest of the table, instructing corrections wherever needed before taking his seat, the rest of the staff following suit.

As with every other morning, Elsie did not lift her gaze towards the top end of the table, he would occasionally hear her laugh with another member of staff but not once would she spare a glance in his direction. She had not spared a glance in his direction in nine months, not since that night in the gardens. He pulled his thoughts away from her, every morning he would torture himself with that moment of self pity, torture himself with that moment of desperate longing for her, and it meant that for once in his life he'd discovered a routine that he wished he could break.

Raising his tea cup to his mouth he took a large mouthful of the hot liquid and distracted himself with that moment of discomfort as the lining of his throat burned slightly. Keeping his expression neutral he forced himself to turn his attention to Mrs Jones and her questions regarding the night's dinner, letting himself find distraction in the rules and propriety he held close to himself.

* * *

She always knew when his eyes were resting on her, every morning without fail since he'd taken over a Butler he would inspect them all and she would feel his gaze almost burning into her skin. Not once did she turn her head, acknowledge that she knew he was looking, although once or twice she'd considering musing her appearance simply to see whether or not he would comment. That was a fool's game though and she did not indulge in such foolish endeavours...well if you omitted her whole romantic entanglement with Charles. Her lips tighten as she scolded herself, it was Mr Carson now and she would do well to remember that. He had chosen his career over her and she simply needed to pick herself up and move on. After all she had never wanted nor planned for a romance so it should really have been quite simple to move on, to forget, and yet it wasn't, even after all these months it was like an aching wound that simply wouldn't heal. Every time she heard his voice, saw that flash of exasperation his eyes it was akin to rubbing salt into a wound and she was right back to where she started.

Her knife clinked against her plate as she halved her toast almost viciously, gaining a concerned frown from Rose. She ignored the look, knew she'd be questioned later, asked if everything was well with her and she knew she'd fix a smile and her face and answer that everything was fine. It was all fine – for the most part – as long as she kept it firmly in her mind that he was the butler, nothing more than that, he could never be more than that now.

So everyday she'd immerse herself in her work, never looking at him, tilting her head away whenever he passed her, his large frame tall and straight, once arm slightly bent behind his back. He would echo the sentiment, never formally addressing her – although she would never give him any cause to find fault with her – his eyes never meeting hers. To the outside world they were the very picture of a dignified Butler and the Head Housemaid, and she knew that as far as he was concerned that image was all that mattered.

* * *

"I trust everything is ready downstairs?" Cora asked somewhat anxiously as Elsie brushed back a dark curl and pinned it into place in the elaborate style she'd asked for.

"Of course," she replied easily, "Mr Carson has it all in hand."

Cora's shoulders relaxed and her hand fluttered slightly as she remarked, "Yes of course, it was foolish of me to think otherwise, it's just what with this being the first time we've entertained since Mary was born I want it to go well."

"There's no reason why it won't."

"Certainly not with Carson at the helm, I don't imagine he allows any form of failure downstairs."

"He does like order and routine," Elsie answered, she really did not want to be drawn into a discussion of Charles Carson's merits.

Her Ladyship however seemed determined to discuss the matter. "We're very lucky to have him, you know for a while I honestly believed that he would turn down the position." She gave a small giggle before continuing, "It must have been pregnancy addling my brain, because I was quite convinced that he was going to leave us to get married."

Her fingers faltered and the pins grasped carefully in her hand tumbled to the carpet. "I am sorry my Lady," she offered quickly, dropping to her knees to gather them up quickly, her mind whirring over the younger woman's words.

She twisted in her chair, "It's quite alright, I suppose it was a rather shocking statement."

"It was that," Elsie murmured unthinkingly. She got to her feet and brushed her skirt down quickly with the back of one hand. She shouldn't continue with this conversation, she knew that, knew that the most sensible course of action would be to act as though the words had never been uttered and yet the question slipped from her mouth regardless, "Why did you think that?"

Cora turned to face the mirror again, a thoughtful frown on her face as she noticed the way that the maid's eyes did not lift from her work, most others would have been standing awestruck, waiting for more gossip and yet she seemed determined to look unaffected by this piece of news. She gave a small shrug, careful not to disturb the way Elsie's fingers were twisting and styling her hair. "Just small things at first," she replied carefully, "And then one day I went to ask him a question and while it may have been improper I went up to the servant's corridor to find him, he wasn't there but there was a ring."

Elsie's fingers slipped again, less noticeably this time, more a fumble that could easily have been overlooked. She knew she had to react to that news but she couldn't think, he could not have had a ring, he'd never made any mention...not once had she thought that he was willing to give everything up for her, not unless he'd absolutely had to. "Perhaps he had it for some other reason."

Cora had not overlooked that small fumble, nor could she overlook the expression in her eyes and the sudden pallor of her skin, her frown deepened momentarily, keeping her voice light as she told her, "That is exactly what his Lordship said, but as I said there were other signs, but then there was none of the whisperings that usually accompany these affairs. Like I said it was most likely the pregnancy making me fanciful."

"As he remains here I think you were mistaken about it, My Lady" she replied quietly. After all he had only mentioned marriage to her in the context of doing his duty, and he had been the one to walk away, he had chosen his career over anything they might have shared. Still though her thoughts lingered on it, trying to think why he may have even had it in the first place.

"It would appear so, although at first he seemed rather reluctant to take the job and the story did appear to make sense." She gave a small shrug. "Oh well, no harm done I suppose." She turned her head, admiring her new hairstyle. "This is very well done, Elsie, although I suppose you'll be very glad when my new Lady's Maid starts work."

"I wouldn't say glad exactly," she answered carefully. "I don't mind the extra work, I like to be kept busy."

"Still, it's not fair to you. I've narrowed it down to two candidates and Mrs Jones is to meet with both of them this week, I shall of course sit in on the interviews, it's important to feel comfortable with the person looking after you in such a way."

"It is that."

Cora got to her feet and smoothed down her dress, shooting Elsie a curious look she asked, "Are you well tonight? You've been rather quiet."

Truth be told she was confused, incredibly so but that was no kind of answer so she replied instead, "I'm just tired, that's all, My Lady."

"Perhaps you should get a few hours rest before I need you later tonight, I can clear it with Mrs Jones, I'm sure-"

"It's very kind of you to offer but I think I would prefer just to get on with things," Elsie interrupted. "The dinner tonight will require all hands on deck so to speak and I would hate to leave them short."

Smiling softly, Cora answered, "Of course, that is your choice." She glanced at the clock on her mantle and remarked, "It would appear that I have some spare time before I have to go down to the drawing room, if anyone is looking for me could you inform them that I am in the nursery."

"Of course."

Pausing in the doorway, Cora peered around the door for a brief second, pondering on the reaction of her head housemaid. She gave a small shake of her head, no surely not, she reasoned with herself, she'd merely surprised her with such a statement.

* * *

"James, the sleeves of that jacket are far too short, go and take another one out of the cupboards immediately, you are not waiting the table looking like that!" Charles snapped at their newest addition. Henry had made his escape quick sharpish when he realised that the rule of the household was about to change hands, after all a reference from Mr Sinclair would have been much more complimentary than any he would have written for him. It did however leave him working with two rather junior footmen. They were so green it made his head ache at times, but at least this way he could train them to a standard that he was content with.

He turned hurriedly and caught sight of Elsie on the stairs, normally she would not so much as pause in her step, never once had she met his gaze, but tonight was different, she not only paused but stopped moving entirely. Her blue eyes lifted and for the first time in a very long time – and he knew exactly how long to the day – her gaze met his and her mouth opened a fraction as though she wanted to say something to him and then closed again, giving the tiniest shake of her head.

Charles stepped forward, he would give anything to have her address him again, to say anything to him, even if it was mundane, a simple question regarding household affairs would be enough for him. His voice sounded rough to his own ears as he took the decision to push her, he wanted her to speak to him, "Elsie-"

"Mr Carson is this more suitable?" James asked, rounding the corner and holding out his arms and examining how they sat lengthwise.

He turned and examined the new jacket quickly. "Much better, just do up your buttons and go and fetch the drinks tray," he barked out harshly, annoyed at being interrupted, glaring at the back of the young boy's head as he made his way towards the kitchen. Looking back towards the stairs he was disappointed to see that Elsie had already made her escape.


	2. Chapter 2

**I have a thing for quotes, I admit it.**

**Thank you for all your kind reviews and for following this story, I hope not to disappoint.**

* * *

_How can I forget you when you're always on my mind? How can I not want you when you're all I want inside? How can I let you go when I can't see us apart? How can I not love you when you control my heart?_

* * *

The doors and windows were all locked, the house secure and the hallways without the hustle and bustle of the day as Charles made his way down the corridor. The clock along the corridor ticked rhythmically letting out the only sound other than his own footsteps, the rest of the staff having long disappeared off to bed. The dinner had gone off without a hitch, just as he'd expected and so he should be proud, should feel some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Instead he just felt irritated and on edge.

It was her fault, he'd grown use to their routine, he hadn't liked it but he'd accepted it and built his position around it, he was supposed to be the dignified and unflappable Butler and so he could not show favour to one of the housemaids. In many ways her silence had made that easier, if he didn't hear her voice or see that sparkle in her eyes then he could pretend as though the entire fiasco had never happened, as though his heart had not been trampled on. And then tonight she'd gone and changed the rules, staring at him, looking as though she were about to bestow the first words she would have spoken to him in months.

His mind could not help but play upon what she could possibly have had to say to him, after all this time, whether it was something of vital importance or if it had been something trivial and inane. His heavy features settled into a frown, why did he let her constantly intrude on his thoughts? What did it matter what she had to say? What right did she even have to make him feel so uncomfortable? To act as though she held the moral high ground on this matter, because while it might make life easier for him in many ways, she was the one who had turned away from him. She had made her position clear, she wanted her work, she did not want him and while it may have been his words that brought about their end, it had been her actions that had provoked the entire thing.

He rubbed at his temple, his head bowed, feeling far older than his thirty six years as his shoulders slumped, letting himself forget the importance of posture for once. In the beginning he had been angry, his pride stung by the way she'd withdrawn from him even before the end had came. Then the anger faded, quickly replaced by the gnawing ache of not having her there, he hadn't realised until she was gone from his life how much he'd relied upon her. She had been the person he turned to when there had been something bothering him, the one person who had always made him laugh and see things from another angle, an angle that could make a disaster look like an insignificant issue. He missed that, more than he could put into words he missed her. It was strange how you could see a person everyday and yet still feel as though they were missing from your life, leaving a gaping hole.

Sighing, he lifted his head and frowned when he realised that his feet had unwittingly been carrying towards the attic. He shook his head, he was very obviously far too caught up in thoughts of her, if anyone had caught him...they would most likely not have said a thing, perhaps they may have looked at him oddly but otherwise they would not have the nerve to question him on his movements, he was in charge after all. He had gotten what he had most desired since his return to service five years ago and yet it was a hollow victory.

His hand rested on the handle to the attic door now, he could remember so well when he used to step inside the room to see her waiting for him on the throw. She'd always smile at him, sometimes hold out her hand to him, other times she'd get to her feet and rush into his arms. He wished that he could forget how it had felt to hold her but he could not seem to forget anything about her, he was behaving like a fool; a love struck fool.

He forced himself to pull his hand away, to go back in there would be beyond foolish and though he had been foolish in the past – extremely so in his youth – he knew better now. He must be the epitome of dignity and propriety, his role dictated it, and to pine over a maid was neither.

* * *

"Robert! She should be in bed," Cora sighed in exasperation as her husband stepped into her room, their baby daughter clasped in his arms. She was wide awake of course, her dark eyes gleaming, her pudgy hands clapping together as she issued a chuckle of delight as her father bounced her in his arms.

"She can't sleep," he stated calmly, tickling her under her chin as he beamed at her proudly.

"Well very few can sleep when someone else is jiggling them about," she replied dryly, although she couldn't help but hold out her arms to her daughter when the little girl turned her attention to her. She took her into her arms and snuggled her close, asking, "Isn't that right, my Darling?"

"Mary didn't seem to issue any complaints." Robert dropped down onto the bed next to his wife and daughter, a smile crossing his features. "She looks like you, she'll break hearts when she's older."

"You don't know that, she might be a peaceful soul, although I will admit that her tantrums suggest otherwise. We probably shouldn't spoil her so much," she mused.

"She won't be this spoiled forever, when we have another child she will adapt. All children do." He ruffled Mary's dark curls as she held up her small stuffed doll for them both to admire. "Tonight went well, even my Mother had no complaints."

"And that is saying something," Cora chuckled.

"I told you it would all go well, I've heard Carson barking at the staff for weeks, getting them into shape. I knew he would succeed in this role, we won't need to worry about disorganisation while he is in charge of us all."

"Yes, I suppose that you must be very relieved that he took up the post in the end."

"I didn't expect him not to, not really," Robert stated confidently, "Carson is a sensible man and he had no reason to decline such an offer."

"I wouldn't say that exactly," Cora replied carefully, "after all we never did get to the bottom of the mysterious romance."

Rolling his eyes, he told her, "There was no romance, I did try to tell you Cora, but you were so insistent that you wouldn't listen. If Carson had been...frolicking around with some girl we would have heard about it, after all no-one in either the village or this house is particularly adept at keeping secrets."

"I can think of a couple in this house who would never breath a word of a secret to anyone, so perhaps he was involved with someone just as careful as he is."

He looked at her incredulously. "You are not seriously suggested that he's involved with Mrs Jones, she's easily twenty years his senior and though she may be capable of keeping a secret she looks like a bulldog chewing a wasp."

"Robert!" Cora hissed, scandalized by her husband's words she tried to hold back an improper giggle but didn't quite manage it. "I did not mean Mrs Jones, and that has conjured up disturbing images that I simply did not need." She shook her head. "I meant someone else in the house."

"Cora, I am tired of guessing games," he sighed. "And to be honest I am growing tired of discussing this non-existent romance that our Butler is apparently embroiled in. I do not mind talking about the staff but I would like it to actually be based in fact."

Cora drew her lips tightly together and stared at her husband, irritated by his refusal to listen, the more she had thought on it tonight the more she'd became convinced that her first instinct had been right. Elsie had not been shocked and scandalised in the way someone should have been, she looked genuinely shaken by what she'd been told. "Very well, I'll say nothing more on the matter, but when I am proved right you can rest assured that I'll be reminding you of this conversation."

"If you are proved right Cora, then I shall have no problem in letting you crow over my mistake, but as things stand I would prefer it if this speculation would stop." He gave a small snort, muttering, "I mean honestly, Carson involved with another member of staff, the very notion is ludicrous."

"If you say so," she told him, a smirk on her face as she kissed the tip of Mary's nose as she gave a wide yawn. "And in the meantime I think you should deposit our daughter back in the nursery, she is very obviously tired now, so no more excuses."

"Very well, say goodnight to your Mama, Mary." He waited until the little girl had placed a sloppy kiss on her mother's nose before sweeping her back up into his arms. This time her dark head resting against his shoulder, her doll curled close into her. "I shan't be long, I'll just get her settled with the nurse and then I'll come back."

"To celebrate a dinner well thrown?" She teased him.

"I believe that every success merits some form of recognition."

"Ah, so shall I tell Mrs Thompson to expect you in the kitchen to show her just how grateful you were for her cooking?"

"Now that is a terrifying thought," he mused, chuckling to himself as he stepped out of his wife's bedroom.

* * *

There is a knock at the door, the sound of Beryl the kitchen maid calling out, "Six o'clock." The words that Elsie would normally wake up to, but although she had managed to drift off due to sheer exhaustion when she'd retired to bed, it had not lasted and she'd woken in the early hours only to toss and turn. Why would he have had a ring? He had been the one to end it all, so it made no sense, none at all that he would have had a ring, that he'd been considering marriage. Her Ladyship must have been mistaken, despite her certainty she must have been.

She heard Rose yawn and saw her covers shift as she stretched underneath them, her arms sticking out into the air. "Oh how I wish we could sleep in for a change."

Elsie managed a small smile as she sat up slowly, the chill of the morning air sinking into her bones and she gave a small shiver as she tried to summon the energy to stand, to get dressed and to get to work. "I don't think your wish is destined to come true, at least not while you work as a maid."

"Oh I know that," she sighed, staring at the ceiling as she pulled her covers higher around her neck. "But it would be nice, I wish I had been born a Lady, then I could lie in whenever I wanted without having to worry about whether the cushions had been adequately plumped."

"I'm sure that being a Lady would bring its own problems," Elsie replied, reaching for her robe and pulling it around herself, trying to ward off the cold.

"I don't think I'd mind some of their problems," Rose remarked, finally sitting up, her brown eyes studying her friend carefully as she added, "Are you quite alright, Elsie? You don't look that well, oh I do hope you're not coming down with anything, there's a lot going around after all. I've got time off at the end of the month to visit my ma and pa and despite what I just said I don't want to be stuck in my bed and sneezing my head off."

"I think it's a very good job that you decided to become a maid rather than caring for the sick, because I don't think many would find your bedside manner comforting."

Rose laughed. "You didn't answer the question."

"I'm not ill," Elise reassured her, "just tired, I didn't sleep well."

"Really? Because doing the jobs of two rather than one should leave you exhausted, I know I'd be glued to my bed if I was expected to do it."

"When are you not?" She teased. "Now come on, if we don't get up now we'll be late and we'll never hear the end of it."

"Oh fine!" Rose groaned, kicking her covers off and getting grudgingly to her feet. "But I still wish I was a Lady who could have breakfast in bed."

Snorting, Elise replied, "Wish all you like, you've got about as much chance of becoming a Lady as I have of becoming the Pope."

* * *

Taking her place at the breakfast table, Elsie reached for the teapot, waiting for Beryl to do the rounds with the large pot of porridge. She glanced up at the kitchen maid and noticed that she looked slightly flustered, her round face red and her hair already starting to frizz out of its bun, not that that was surprising, it was hard work being a kitchen maid and an utterly thankless job at that.

She heard the clinking of Mrs Jones' keys and the low rumble of Charles...Mr Carson's voice as they approached the kitchen, she watched as the staff readied themselves for their arrival and Mr Carson's subsequent inspection. The entire staff were on their feet within a few seconds when the pair entered the room.

Elsie could feel his gaze, scanning the line as always before he sat down and felt that familiar prickle of awareness traverse her spine when his attention turned to her. Today was different though, Lady Grantham's words played on her mind and she could not rid herself of them however hard she tried to do just that, so instead of staring straight ahead of herself as she would normally do, she inclined her head ever so slightly to meet his eyes with her own. She saw him blink rapidly, the only indication that he was surprised, caught out even, by her change of tact, otherwise he was completely unaffected. Their eyes stayed locked for another second, Elsie felt her heartbeat thud nervously just once before he pulled his eyes away from hers and focussed on the next in line.

Turning away from him, she shut her eyes for the briefest of seconds, she felt dazed and dizzy, she did not want to have to think about this, did not want to think about him. Even if he'd had a ring he had not wanted her! Her head ached, she wanted to forget about him, forget what they had shared, this hurt too much.

* * *

She was pale today, that was the first thing he'd noticed, in fact pale was an understatement, he'd always admired her skin but today she looked ashen and when she lifted her eyes to his it took all his willpower to stay steady, to not react. She looked tired was his second thought, of course that did not detract from her charms but it did worry him.

He had to look away though, could not continue to stare at her all morning, in fact if his gaze lingered any longer it would start to raise eyebrows and start tongues wagging, so he turned away. Still though the image of her tired blue eyes haunted him for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter didn't quite work out as planned, and I hope that no-one comes across as too OOC but I had to address the elephant in the room, there was only so long I could skirt around the issue.**

* * *

_It is better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than to lose that someone you love with your useless pride._

* * *

"You're looking very flushed, Elsie, are you feeling well?" Cora asked, eyeing her maid suspiciously in the mirror.

"Perfectly," Elsie was quick to reassure her, the lie tripping easily off her tongue. She did not really feel well at all, the headache that had been a mild annoyance that morning had magnified until it felt as though someone were hitting her head from the inside with a mallet. And while her skin may have been flushed she felt chilled, her bones and muscles aching so badly that it had taken all her strength to pull herself up the stairs. She could not afford to be ill, she had too much to be getting on with.

"Hmmm," Cora mumbled, looking completely unconvinced by the assurance. "There is quite a lot going around at the moment, and you haven't exactly been taking it easy. I do wish you'd let me talk to Mrs Jones about cutting down some of your household duties while you're stepping in as my Ladies Maid."

"As I said, Milady that was very kind of you to offer but I really do prefer to be kept busy."

"Surely not at the expense of your own health," the younger woman pointed out sagely.

Elsie managed to smile at that. "I am fine, truly I am," she repeated, she did not think herself a dishonest person but the last thing she wanted was to spend the next few days in bed, because all she would do would be to think about Charles...Mr Carson again. She shook her head at herself, disappointed that so many her thoughts dwelt on a man who had not wanted her. Her fingers moved automatically, she had done this so many times now that she could probably do this style with her eyes closed, and she had to admit the idea of shutting her eyes struck her as extremely tempting right about now.

"Well if you're sure."

"I am."

Cora nodded, watching as her hair was twisted this way and that and pinned neatly into place, she really did make it look effortless she mused to herself. She ran her fingertip over the top of her dressing table, considering her next words carefully before she finally spoke, "About what I told you yesterday, about Carson."

Elsie wanted nothing more than to cover her ears, she was tired of this, she wanted to forget him, to move on and yet the world seemed to be conspiring against her. Not looking up however she resisted that urge and instead replied calmly, "If you are worried I can assure you that I have not mentioned our conversation regarding Mr Carson to anyone, I am perfectly capable of keeping something quiet."

Cora gave a small half smile as she remarked dryly, "The same cannot be said for most of the staff in this house."

"Well as you said there was a high chance that you were mistaken, and Mrs Jones would have my head if she found me indulging in idle gossip," Elsie answered feeling incredibly flustered, whenever her Ladyship would begin talking about Mr Carson she felt as though she were walking a tightrope, trying not to let anything that may prove detrimental slip out.

"I'm sure Mrs Jones reaction would have been mild compared to Carson's," Cora replied, her tone filled with wry amusement. "I don't imagine he would be very impressed."

"No, I wouldn't have thought so, it certainly falls outside the purview of what Mr Carson deems acceptable and proper behaviour," she replied almost bitterly. She really did not feel well now, her corset felt as though it was robbing her of all breath.

Cora chewed momentarily on her bottom lip, sure that she wasn't imagining the way that Elsie's tone was becoming ever so slightly curt, not rudely so of course but her voice had lost any of its usual warmth, her accent becoming more pronounced. She should not be so interested in the affairs of her staff – she did know that – as long as their actions did not bring scandal upon her household then she really shouldn't bother herself with that went on below stairs, but there was something compelling here. Not to mention that country life could be so tediously dull at times, Robert spent so long dealing with the estate and most of Mary's care was entrusted to her nurse, so it was difficult to find ways to fill her day. Still she told herself, she should still at least attempt to refrain from toying in the lives of others. No, she corrected herself immediately, she was not toying, she was merely showing an interest, and there was no harm in being interested in the lives of those who worked for you. "Have you had a run in with, Carson?" she asked, watching her reaction carefully.

Elsie still didn't look up, she'd done exactly what she'd told herself she wouldn't, she'd said something that was completely inappropriate. "I shouldn't have said that, Milady, I was out of line, it won't happen again."

"You didn't answer my question, has Carson said something to upset you?"

"Of course not. I don't see much of Mr Carson, as I'm sure you're aware I deal mainly with Mrs Jones," Elsie replied.

"Of course, but that doesn't mean he'll have kept an opinion to himself." Cora gave a small smile. "He does like order after all."

"He does," she agreed, wondering whether it was possible to feel too hot and too cold at the same time. She stifled a cough, her throat feeling prickly now.

Cora held back a sigh, it was very obvious that she was not about to get anything out of Elsie, although that little slip earlier had been interesting. She tapped her fingers against her dressing table again, perhaps Robert was right, perhaps she was looking for intrigue and scandal when really there was nothing there. Maybe she should go and speak to the Dowager, arrange to get more involved in the community, find something to do. She looked back up at Elsie, who was frowning slightly as she continued with the task at hand, she hoped she hadn't made the woman uncomfortable. This time she couldn't hold back the small, little breath of irritation, yes, if she was imagining scandal amongst her own staff then she definitely needed to find something else to do with her time.

* * *

Her head hurt, in fact everything hurt, Elsie buried her head into her pillow, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, willing sleep to come. She was so tired that all she wanted was to sleep and then sleep some more.

Her throat was so dry and it felt as though it were filled with razors, she wanted, no she needed water. She kicked off her bed sheets and sat on the edge of the mattress, feeling as though the bed had tilted slightly before she realised that she was starting to slump to one side. Pulling herself straight she corrected her positioning and glanced over to where Rose was snoring lightly, she envied her, envied how easily she'd fallen to sleep.

The minutes ticked by and eventually she summoned up enough energy to push herself to her feet. She shivered as the evening air sank under her skin, she was frozen and yet she was aware that her skin felt damp with sweat, it was too cold though and she reached for her robe, tying it tightly around herself. She did have slippers somewhere but she could not bring herself to look for them, she had the most awful feeling that if she bent down she'd be unable to stand upright again. Her feet felt almost numb anyway so she doubt she'd notice if the floors were cold.

Her movements slow and awkward, Elsie made her way downstairs. Why was her Ladyship so interested in Charles...Mr Carson possibly being involved with someone? Did she suspect something? No, Elsie shook her head, wincing when the movement made her temples throb, if she did suspect something then surely she would not be so calm and collected about the whole thing. Romance downstairs was strictly frowned upon, and while the young Countess may be an American, she very much doubted that things were that different on the other side of the water. She had no idea what had gotten into the younger woman but she was so sure that nothing more would come of it. What did continue to play on her mind though, was why, if Charles...Mr Carson she corrected herself with a mental scolding, if he had been so happy, had given out the impression to others that he was willing to leave service for her, then why had he finished their relationship so suddenly?

Why couldn't she stop this? Why couldn't she just let it lie? He had not chosen her, what did the reasons behind his choice matter? She pressed her hand to her clammy forehead, despite it all however she still wanted answers, answers to questions that if she knew what was good for her she wouldn't ask.

* * *

Charles stretched in his chair, rolling his neck from side to side and wincing at the cracks that it omitted. Sighing he closed over the wine ledger, the scrawled figures starting to blurred together to his tired gaze. Glancing up at the clock he realised that he should have gone to bed hours ago, he undid the top couple of buttons to his shirt, after all there was no-one around at this hour to see him looking so dishevelled.

He got heavily to his feet, ready for bed now when he heard the smallest of clatters emanating from the kitchen. The frown on his features deepened, there shouldn't be anyone up at this hour, never mind downstairs. The only other person who ever stayed up this late was Mrs Jones and she had bid him goodnight over an hour ago.

Turning on his heel he stalked quickly back down the corridor, ready to give whoever was sneaking about at this time a piece of his mind. His chest puffed out as irritation filled him, the nerve of some of the younger staff, he and Mrs Jones had both made it perfectly clear that a good night's sleep was essential to carrying out one's duties to the best of your abilities. And God help them if they were down here in some sort of secret assignation, he did not tolerate slap and tickle amongst his staff – in his mind a proper courtship was a completely different kettle of fish.

Storming into the kitchen, Charles stumbled to a halt when he saw just who was in the kitchen. Elsie was leaning against the countertop, her head rested against the bottom of one of the top cupboards. His indignant ire escaped him quickly as he drunk in the sight of her. Her hair hit to just below her shoulder in a tumble of dark curls that contrasted sharply with the white of her robe which couldn't quite hide the curves of her form.

He swallowed heavily, feeling as though his tongue were now glued to the top of his mouth as he croaked out, "Elsie...what are you doing in here?"

She lifted her head slowly, as though she were in a daze and had not quite heard him, her blue eyes flickering over to where he stood and it was now he noticed even in the dark how flushed her face was and how her skin shone with a thin layer of perspiration. She blinked, looking at him with a small frown on her face as she replied hoarsely, "I needed some water."

He glanced down at the glass that was clasped in her hands and replied gently, "Well since you have it perhaps you should go back to bed."

Elsie nodded. "Of course, I know I shouldn't be up so late. I'll go back up in a minute." She just needed to gather her strength first, she was so very tired now.

Charles stepped closer to her, unable to stop himself, she really did not look well at all to him, her eyes were dull and without their usual sparkle. He rested his hand on her forearm and even through the cotton of her robe he could feel that she was burning up. Forgetting propriety he pressed his hand to her forehead, confirming his suspicions that she had a fever. "Elsie, you must go to bed," he urged her again. "You aren't well."

"I know," she finally admitted, her voice little more than a croak now.

"Then be off with you," he chided her softly.

Turning her face so she could stare up at him, Elsie looked into his face, saw how it was creased in concern for her but what she couldn't fathom was if it was the concern of a Butler for a housemaid or if there was something more in it. No, that was a foolish thought she reminded herself. She gave the smallest of nods and replied, "Very well then." Stepping forward she managed a few steps before she let out a soft moan and stalled, her head spinning. She felt his strong hands on her shoulders, pressing her into one of the chairs gathered around the table.

He crouched down in front of her and pushed a damp curl off her face. "How long have you been like this?"

"Not long." She opened her eyes slowly, clouded blue focussing on concerned brown. "It's just a cold, a good night's sleep will cure me, I'm sure of it."

"I wished I shared your optimism," he chuckled softly, his hand enveloping one of hers. "But I do agree that you need your bed." He coughed awkwardly as he realised just how his words had sounded and amended himself, "I did not mean to sound as forward as I did there."

Elsie gave a sad smile, replying unthinkingly, "You don't have to worry, I know how little appeal that idea holds for you, you made that clear months ago."

He frowned at her words, she made it sound as though she were the injured party. "It was not that your bed held no appeal for me," he told her bluntly, "But you made it clear that you did not want marriage, that you did not want romance and so what was I to do? It would have been improper for me to continue perusing you, especially given my position."

"You chose that position over me, and when did I ever mention not wanting marriage to you?" She questioned, the fever must be loosening her tongue, making her bold, otherwise she would never have said these words to him.

Charles sighed, straightening to his full height as his knees began to ache. "You said it Elsie, that marriage was not to be taken lightly and you would not want to give up your career for it."

"I did not want to be Joe's wife, I did not want to give up the independence I'd built for myself for a man who did not love me, for a life that I knew would be hard and unforgiving. I was not rejecting the entire concept of ever getting married." She shook her head, unable to believe this was why he'd destroyed what they'd shared. She wasn't sure if she was angry or distraught at what he'd just told her. "Why would you think that?"

"You had been so distant with me," he protested, his deep voice slightly shaky now. "When Henry told me that you had made it clear you would never leave service-"

"Henry," she interrupted, her voice alternating between a croak and a forced whisper. "You listened to Henry, instead of asking me what was wrong! If you had done..." she shook her head. "I did not pull away from you because I did not care for you, I pulled away because I wanted to be sure of my feelings, to have a clear head before I made any decisions."

He stared at her, unable to believe just what he was hearing. "I did not want to hear you tell me what a fool I'd been," he admitted.

"So you rushed in and ended everything."

"Yes," he answered dully, he realising how he'd let his pride stop him from having what he'd most wanted, all those wasted months, and seeing that look of disappointment in her eyes he realised he'd never forgive himself for how he'd ended things between them. "I have been such a fool anyway."

Her Ladyship may have very well been right, Elise realised, he may have been about to leave service for her, but then he'd been foolish enough to listen to the words of someone else instead of talking to her. Perhaps they had not been as close as she'd thought, after all had she not done the same thing? She had distanced herself from him, unable to confide in him just how she felt for him, convinced he would never truly want her. "I think we've both been fools," she sighed. "My head hurts, I think perhaps you were right and I should go to bed." She made to stand and felt her head swoop, her hand grasping his shoulder in an attempt to steady herself.

He gripped her hip, his regrets not forgotten but pushed to one side as he looked into her exhausted face. "I think that would be wise." Holding her upright he told her, "I'll help you up the stairs."

"I don't think that would be very proper, if Mrs Jones catches you..."

"We'll be very quiet, but to be honest I don't see how else you're going to get up the stairs. We shall just have to take our chances."

She knew that she should turn him down, but she knew that there was no way she'd get up there on her own. She could barely hold herself straight, all she wanted was to slump into the chair again. "Fine." She let out a volley of coughs as she let him lead her from the kitchens.

They moved through the house wordlessly, there was nothing that they could say after all. For months they had both nursed broken hearts, believing the other did not care for them and it had been pride and foolishness that had really kept them apart. He walked her right to the door, murmuring to her, "Now go straight to bed."

"I will," she promised. "Thank you for your help."

He gave a rather stilted nod. "Goodnight then, Elsie.

"Goodnight, Mr Carson," she whispered back.

A flash of pain crossed his face at the formal use of his name. "When you are well perhaps we could talk more about...well about this misunderstanding."

"Perhaps..." She could not bring herself to say much more, she was not sure her voice was going to hold out for much longer anyway. She patted his arm as she let go of it, moving unsteadily forward.

He watched her go, watched her stumble into her room, closing the door behind her before he finally made his way down the corridor, the door between the corridors was of course locked so he'd have to take the long way back to his bedroom. He didn't care though, that was the least of his problems tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

**I hadn't really planned this chapter but it's what my fingers typed.**

**A couple of facts for this chapter. The 2 drugs I reference are phenacetin, which was used in the early 1890s to lower fevers and as an analgesic before the widespread use of paracetamol. The second is ****Pyocyanase which was the first widespread antibiotic to be used around the same time. It was not used for long due to the fact that it was highly toxic to some patients. It did however appear to work in some cases but was only given as a last resort. I couldn't find too many details on how it was used and how high the success rate was so I may very well not be completely right in the use of it.**

* * *

_The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost._

* * *

Charles had barely slept; instead he had twisted and turned in his narrow bed as he tried to come to terms with what he'd learned that night. Elsie had not wanted to push him away and he could not help but wonder if she had missed him just as much as he had missed her. Now the months that she had ignored him made sense, they had each held the other responsible for destroying something the other had treasured...except, except although she had looked exhausted and hurt she had not told him his beliefs were wrong. She had stated she would not have given up her career for Joe Burns, but had made no mention that she would give it up for him.

Groaning and resting his head momentarily against the door of his office, Charles once again replayed her words, her expressions, looking for some...any clue that she still cared for him in the way that he cared for her. It might be that perhaps she had cared for him in that way, that he had been so terribly wrong to walk away but now that so much time had passed she did not think of him in that way anymore. He needed answers, although he was not sure what good could come from it, after all they could not just pick up from where they'd left off, it would be a complete abuse of his position. The Butler who seduced a Housemaid, he shuddered just thinking of the resulting scandal. That was if she even wanted things to pick up again, she may not and he wasn't sure which prospect was worse.

From outside his door he could hear the hustle and bustle of the other staff as they made their way to the servant's hall for breakfast. He had to gather himself, to do what he had practiced so well and push his thoughts of her to one side, they could speak later, he could think on all of this later and no doubt he would.

Straightening his jacket, he stepped into the hall, making his way to the hall, his entrance as always marked with the noise of every chair scraping against the floor as the table stood to attention. His eyes scanned the table, pausing as always at Elsie's seat, except this time it was empty, careful to keep his voice even, his tone almost disinterested he turned to Mrs Jones, stating, "We appear to be missing a member of staff."

The older woman gave a curt nod, a strand of grey hair escaping a clip as she did so. "Yes, Mr Carson, Elsie is unwell today and so I've given her strict instructions that she is to stay in bed."

"Nothing serious I hope, after all we're already short a Lady's Maid, the last thing we need is to be a housemaid down as well," he remarked, he could not show undue concern, it would look suspicious and yet he needed to know. She certainly had not looked well last night.

"Most likely a bad head cold," she replied easily. "I'm sure she'll be fine in a day or two at most, in the meantime I've asked Rose to step in to assist her Ladyship."

"As long as everything is under control," Charles concluded, taking his seat at the table, the rest of the staff following suit. He buttered his toast absentmindedly as the others chattered around him, for Elsie to agree to take a day off from work would mean that she must indeed be unwell. His frown deepened, it was a head cold, that was all, a few days and she would be well, nothing to concern himself with, nothing at all.

* * *

Her head hurt, she barely had the energy to lift it from the pillow and every time she coughed there was a sharp pain shooting through her chest. She'd never felt so wretched in all her days. There was a book sitting on the small bedside table but she didn't have the energy to reach for it and if that were the case then she probably wouldn't be able to hold it up either.

So instead she was stuck staring at either the ceiling or the wall, left alone with her thoughts which once again centred on that foolish man. In all reality she had no idea how far their courtship may have progressed, but she would have been happy to leave service for him. They could have ran a shop, could have done any number of things, it was probably a foolish vision of a future, after all despite the words and caresses that had flowed between them he had not trusted her enough to let his pride fall. Then again she had not confided her fears in him.

Shivering, she tugged her covers higher, up to her neck as she twisted herself round them, trying to get some warmth about her. He wanted to talk to her about their...misunderstanding was probably the best words for it, but to say what? Did he want to apologize? Did he want them to start again – unlikely given his position – but did she want that? She shook her head at that thought and winced, of course she wanted that. But to what end? To what purpose? Things had been less complicated the first time round and they had not been able to make it work.

He had position now, what was the likelihood he wanted to give up the glamour and elegance of Downton to settle for a life of mediocrity running a shop – she knew that would be how he saw it, and she was not sure she blamed him. The same thoughts ran around and around in her head until she felt almost dizzy with it all. There was no point in dwelling on it all now, there was no point thinking about it until she had heard what he wanted to say to her, it may just be him stating that their end had been for the best. For now though she was simply going to shut her eyes, shut her eyes and get some sleep, try and rid herself of this dreadful cold.

* * *

"Elsie, you shall have to give me some pointers on how her Ladyship likes her hair done, she didn't say anything but she did not look impressed by my attempts this morning. Why must it all be so complicated though? What's wrong with simple?" Rose sighed as she stepped into the room, her hands on her hips. She frowned when her friend didn't answer her. "Elsie! I don't want to disturb you but you really must help me," she continued, pushing at her shoulder as she did so. She had the covers pulled so high that Rose couldn't see her face at all. When there was no response her frown deepened, Elsie had never seemed to her to be a deep sleeper so she shook her shoulder again, leaning over the bed as she did so.

This time she got a low almost pained grumble in reply, and shaking her head, Rose pulled the covers down so that she could see her face and drew back sharply. Elise looked terrible, her skin was flushed and covered in sweat, her breathing harsh and laboured. Making to move the blanket, Rose was surprised when her hand tightened around it. "Cold," she murmured in a low croak.

"You can't be!" Rose insisted. "You must have an awful fever. Elsie, how long have you been like this?" She didn't reply and Rose bit down on her bottom lip, she couldn't leave her like this, she plainly needed a doctor and she needed one now, even she could see that.

She moved quickly down the stairs, silently cursing the narrowness of the servant's stairways and the size of the house as she hurried to Mrs Jones' office. By the time she reached the door she was undeniably out of breath, and tried her best to regain some of her composure as she knocked on the door. "Not now," Mrs Jones called out irritably. Rose shuffled awkwardly on her feet, the old bat was always miserable, she thought uncharitably and she did not feel comfortable waiting, not this time, so taking a deep breath and steeling herself she opened the door and rushed in anyway.

As expected Mrs Jones got to her feet, her weathered face reddening in outage and Mr Carson turned to stare at her in stunned disbelief, his posture as straight as ever. The older woman quickly rallied from her shock, snapping at her, "I believe I instructed you to wait outside."

"I know, and I am sorry Mrs Jones but it is a matter of urgency-"

"There is nothing more urgent than good manners," she barked back.

"I'm going to have to agree with Mrs Jones on this one," Mr Carson supplied deeply, frowning at her. "You were given clear instructions which you failed to follow."

"I do know that, Mr Carson but you see it's Elsie, I think she needs to be seen by the doctor because she doesn't look very well at all."

Charles felt his spine stiffen at that and he took his time to examine the worry on the young girl's face and his heart sank as all his fears rushed to the surface. He watched her head duck as Mrs Jones continued to harp on about the importance of respecting the instructions of one's betters. He couldn't listen to this, could not just stand by as Elsie lay ill upstairs. "Mrs Jones, if one of our own is ill then perhaps on this one occasion we can overlook Rose's impertinence, and you should go and check whether Elsie does indeed require the doctor's attentions."

Mrs Jones disgruntled expression did not abate although she did give a small nod. "Very well, but Rose you can rest assured that you and I will be talking later about this. Now come along." She turned to look at Charles, telling him, "Am I to take it that you are happy to finish discussing this later?"

"Of course," he replied, trying not to let his exasperation shine through. He did not want to stand here debating this with her, he wanted her to go and do something, to help Elsie. Finally she went, giving a small harrumph as she did so and Charles wandered out into the corridor, trying to stop his thoughts from running away with themselves, a fever, an illness could take even the young and the healthy so very quickly. He shook his head, he should not think like this, he must remain optimistic, especially when he didn't even know what was wrong.

* * *

"It not good I'm afraid," Dr Clarkson informed Mrs Jones and Rose as they shut the door to Elsie's room behind them. "It's pneumonia and a serious case, I believe it started as flu and developed quickly as a complication."

"So what do we do then?" Mrs Jones asked briskly. "There must be something surely."

"Try and keep her cool, try and break the fever but I have to say that I don't believe that will do much good. I hate to be so blunt but I would be surprised if she makes it through the night unless we take drastic action and even then..."

Rose sniffled, bowing her head slightly, and Mrs Jones patted her sympathetically on her back, telling her softly, "This will be upsetting for you, so why don't you go and sit in the kitchens for a little while, the other girls can cope and you can pass the time until you have to see to her Ladyship again."

"I'd like to stay with, Elsie," she supplied quietly.

"And that is admirable, but I need your help this evening, I shall look after her, now be off with you." She waited until the young girl was out of earshot and asked, "Just how drastic are we talking?"

"There are some drugs that are relatively new that have shown small amounts of success in the treatment of such a disease."

"And in the cases where they don't work?" The young doctor's silence told her all she needed to know and she nodded briskly. "I see," she murmured. "Do we have any other option?"

"I would not have suggested such a route if I believed there to be any other option."

"Very well, if that truly is the case then I believe we must try it, and before you say anything Elsie is a very pragmatic girl, I'm sure if she were able to then she would agree to this course of action."

Dr Clarkson's grip on his briefcase tighten, his voice slightly tight with strain as he informed her, "In that case I shall return to the hospital and gather what I need, the medication shall have to be given as a solution, one until her fever breaks and the other for at least seven days, should they work. I shall give the first dose and I take it you are happy to ensure she receives the rest."

"Of course," she assured him. "And since I assume that time is off the essence here I shall let you go, Dr Clarkson."

* * *

The clock in the corner of his office chimed softly, reminding him of the lateness of the hour and he could not help but let his eyes drift slowly upwards. His worst fears were realised and there was a very good chance that he would lose Elsie, and not in the way he had before, when he could still see her every day, would have had the ability to talk to her if he had so wanted. No, if he lost her this time it would be permanent.

His eyes closed, his head ducking, chin pressing against his chest as he took in a deep shuddering breath. He was not a man given to tears but right now he felt perilously close, his self control slipping from him. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he forced himself to gather himself, he would be of use to no man if he was to let himself break down.

Their last conversation played in his mind, he thought of how he had been so preoccupied with propriety, with how best to deal with the situation should she want to renew their courtship. Now it no longer seemed to matter, he would gladly give her the moon and the stars should she ask for it, if only she'd stay. He thought of all those wasted months where they should have been together, where he should have been holding her close at night and instead they'd been apart.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply again. He was not even able to sit with her, did not have the right to even venture near that side of the house no matter his position or what reason he might give. It was torture, he decided grimly, to sit here and not know whether he would ever se or speak to her again, to not see her in the halls, to hear her laugh at the breakfast table even when it wasn't directed at him.

There was the sound of quiet footsteps along the corridor and he jumped to his feet, anxious to see if whoever was out there would hold any news. He opened his door and saw Mrs Jones standing by hers, the click of a lock echoing throughout the deserted hall. "I didn't realise you were still up, Mr Carson," she said softly, acknowledging his presence.

"I was working late, had a few things to catch up on," he offered as reasoning.

"Of course, it can't have been the easiest of evenings, I'm sorry not to have been more help."

"Nonsense," he dismissed her quickly. "You were required elsewhere." He steeled himself, straightening his shoulders before asking, "How is she?"

"She is no worse, her temperature appears to be lower but I believe that to be the medication. Although if it is to work then Dr Clarkson believes we shall not see any improvement until at least tomorrow evening and it is most likely to be a few days more than that, although if she makes it through the night then he believes her to at least have a fighting chance."

"How did it come to this?" Charles sighed almost to himself.

Mrs Jones gave him a small smile. "Who can say why things happen the way they do, all I can say is that it rests in God's hands now." She patted his arm as she passed him. "I've locked my office so I must be off to bed, we'll be busy in the morning."

"Of course, Goodnight Mrs Jones," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Mr Carson."

Charles watched her go and felt his shoulders slump when she had disappeared out of sight, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his regret weighing down on him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay, the next chapter should be up in the next few days.**

* * *

The corridors along the bottom floor were quiet, not silent of course, they would never, could never be that but the conversations were hushed, subdued. Charles rubbed at his aching forehead, remembering how just the morning before the staff had rushed around, talking and laughing loudly. Now they all waited on tenterhooks.

He had not slept, how could when Elsie could very well be dying on the other side of that door, merely a few feet from where he lay. His pen twirled between his fingers, the ink from the nib staining his skin, but for once he neither cared or even noticed. He would have heard if she had taken a turn for the worse he reminded himself. His shoulders straightened, he was the Butler, therefore he knew what went on under this roof and that including any concerns regarding the staff.

His shoulders slumped again, but she was not simply staff, she was...well he was no longer entirely sure what she was to him exactly. He'd spent all of last night thinking, wondering how, if he could put what lay between them right, if it was at all possible, how they could juggle their work and their time alone. Then he wondered if he cared, if he would simply sacrifice all that he had worked for just to have her save and by his side. His answer was stark and immediate, he knew he would not hesitate to leave service if it meant having her.

Charles was pulled from his thoughts by a sharp knock at the door, he frowned slightly, staff very rarely bothered him before their breakfast and whenever they did they certainly never brought good news. His stomach twisted. "Come in," he called, his voice unsteady to his own ears.

Mrs Jones let herself into the room, her grey hair escaping the usually neat confines of her bun, the corners of her eyes creased with tiredness. "I thought it wise to come and update you, Mr Carson, before we face the rabble."

"Of course...how is Elsie?"

The older woman gave a small shrug. "She is no better or no worse, which I suppose is better than expected really. I'll know no more until Dr Clarkson comes to see her this morning. Her fever has yet to break," she sighed sadly. She seemed to shake herself as she looked up and assured him, "Of course the household will not suffer, I shall ensure her duties are split amongst the rest of the staff. It would be much easier of course if her Ladyship had hired herself a maid. Is there any news on that?"

"I believe interviews are to be held sometime next week, no doubt her Ladyship will want to speak to you about it at some point."

"Well today if she's looking for me if I'm not in my office then I'll be tending to Elsie, simply send one of the girls to fetch me."

"I shall," he assured her, even as his mind turned over what she had told him, no worse but no better either. Was that a blessing or a curse he wondered idly.

"Mr Carson, are you feeling quite well?" Mrs Jones asked suddenly.

"Of course," he replied, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. "Why do you ask?"

"Well you normally have more to say of a morning," she remarked dryly. "And you're looking quite pale, I do hope you're not coming down with anything."

"I'm as healthy as an ox," Charles assured the housekeeper briskly. "Simply thinking through the day's tasks, which I should probably be getting on with."

"I'll leave you to it then." She threw him one last speculative glance before leaving the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again.

* * *

"You've changed your hair," Robert remarked as his wife entered the library, sitting elegantly on the sofa across from him.

"Hmmm," her hand pressed against the back of her head. "I'm afraid it was not by choice, the girl stepping in for Elsie is not competent in some of the latest fashions, I did try to talk her through it but she was getting so flustered that I settled for this."

Robert looked over his paper, scrutinizing her carefully, "It's not too bad, just don't let my mother see it."

Cora shuddered. "No, I most certainly won't be allowing that. Really I'm beginning to wish I hadn't delayed these interviews."

"Bring them forward then," he suggested, his attention going back to the day's news.

She shook her head. "I couldn't possibly, not with Elsie so unwell, Mrs Jones is already pushed to the limit staffing wise, I doubt she'd be able to properly conduct these interviews."

"Any news on the girl?"

"Not that I've heard, I did try to ask Rose but she was already so flustered and when I brought up the subject it just seemed to upset her, I thought it wise to let the subject drop. I believe Dr Clarkson stopped by again this morning though."

"I could ring for Carson, ask him to update us."

"I don't want to bother him."

"Nonsense, if you're concerned then you have a right to know, we do employ her after all," he retorted as he rang the bell.

"I don't want us to look mercenary, as though all I'm concerned with is getting my Lady's maid back," she told him, her voice a quiet hiss now. The staff were all too proficient in coming and going from rooms without her even realizing.

"He won't think that," Robert assured her, his brow wrinkling slightly as he asked, "You're not though, are you?"

"Of course I'm not!" Cora replied sharply, sitting bolt upright. "I like Elsie, I admit that I'd like a maid who'd indulge in gossip a bit more than she does but considering that appears to be her only fault...well I can't really complain."

The door opened with the quietest of creaks, and Cora turned to see the imposing figure of Carson standing in the doorway, one arm tucked neatly behind his back as always. "You rang for me, My Lord."

"I did, yes," Robert confirmed. "Her Ladyship and I heard that Dr Clarkson visited the house this morning and we wondered if there was any news on our head housemaid."

Charles gave a small shake of his head, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth for a moment before he unglued it enough to reply, "None, I'm afraid. We simply have to wait, although he did remark that it bodes well that she made it through the night."

"Well I suppose that is one thing," Robert remarked.

Cora's head gave a small shake in exasperation at her husband before she asked, "Is there anything we can do, Carson?"

"It's very kind of you to offer Milady, but there's nothing. Nothing any of us can do," he added unthinkingly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly for a moment before she gave a small, encouraging smile, "I'm confident that it shall all work itself out in the end, Carson. How are the rest of the staff? Any sign of the sickness spreading?"

"None, Dr Clarkson thinks that Elsie may have just been extremely unlucky."

"She has seemed rather rundown these last few weeks," Cora admitted. "And I did try to reduce her workload but she simply wouldn't allow it."

That certainly sounded like her, Charles thought to himself, saying aloud, "She is a good worker."

"Yes, so if you or Mrs Jones think she requires anything then you will let us know?"

"Of course, Milady."

"Good," Cora nodded, looking satisfied as she settled back in her chair, although her eyes didn't move from him. He looked tired, she decided and she had never once seen him look so weary. "I'll let you get on now, Carson," she told him, deciding she had kept him long enough. "We just wanted an update."

He gave another of his stiff nods before leaving the room, enabling Cora to turn her attention back to her husband. "Carson seems rather distracted today, don't you think?"

Robert did not even look up as he replied, "Hmmm, well I suppose he has more on his plate than usual. I'm confident he'll cope though."

"Oh I have no doubt of that," she assured him almost dismissively. "I just thought it strange, it almost seemed as though all this might be affecting him."

"I'm sure it is, reminds one of their own mortality when a young and healthy person hovers at death's door."

Cora let out a somewhat irate sigh, at times her husband really could be quite dense.

* * *

The hours dragged by, the mood of the staff remaining sombre, dinner an unusually quiet affair that led to yet another sleepless night for Charles, the hour or so of sleep that he did manage to get being disturbed by dark dreams and his waking moments spent reliving the painful memories of that last walk he and Elsie had taken together.

His limbs felt heavy the next day and he knew that he was being needlessly irritable to all those who crossed him. Mrs Jones' seat at the breakfast table was empty and the sight of it combined with the gap in staff where Elsie would normally sit made his chest ache. The other girl, Rose, was also missing and he did not want to ponder on the reason why.

He pushed his spoon disinterestedly around his plate, his porridge slowly cooling and growing heavier. The butter and marmalade on his toast starting to congeal when Rose entered the room, her footsteps quick, her cheeks flushed. He glanced up sharply, rebuking her out of habit, "You're late."

Her smile faded and her head ducked respectfully as she replied quietly, "I'm sorry, Mr Carson, I've just came from seeing, Elsie." Her smile widened once more as she informed the table, "Her fever broke early this morning, she seems much better."

For once Charles let the staff break into uncontrolled chatter, let the relieved laughs of others surround him as he felt almost every bit of tension leave his muscles. Her fever had broken, that meant, surely that meant that she would recover. He could not help but smile as he finally turned his attention for breakfast, deciding that when they went to church on Sunday he'd be sending up an extra prayer of thanks.

* * *

Her head felt fuzzy, as though someone had filled it with cotton wool, her throat dry and scratchy. She couldn't remember anything of the last few days, they'd passed with long periods of oblivion interspersed with strange dreams, dreams that she couldn't remember and yet left her feeling vaguely unsettled. Her hands smoothing over the bed sheet unsteadily she asked, "How long was I out?"

Dr Clarkson barely looked up from his notebook, his pen scratching against the paper as he replied, "About forty eight hours, kept us all on our toes." He looked up at her sharply and reminded her, "Not that you're well yet."

"Yes, I know that," she muttered, settling back against her pillow. She felt awful, not as awful as a few nights ago but awful nonetheless.

"You'll be on bed rest for another seven days, I'll change what medicines I've left for you. To be honest the less time you're on one of them the better and you don't need the other one now you're fever's broken."

Elsie let out a cough that wracked her body and caused the doctor to look over at her again before turning his attention to Mrs Jones who was standing quietly by the door as he instructed the older woman, "Some honey and lemon for her throat wouldn't go amiss, and she'll need to start eating again, the sooner the better, build up her strength. Nothing too rich but something that she'll still want to eat."

"I'll instruct Beryl to get her some toast, if she manages that then she can have some broth at lunchtime."

"Good." He turned his attention back to his patient. "Now no rushing around, and you've certainly not to even attempt to work until I review you next week. I'll come back before then of course to check how you're doing and Mrs Jones knows to contact me should she have any concerns about you." He tipped his head at the pair of them. "I'll see myself out, Good day, Mrs Jones."

She graced him with one of her rare smiles. "Thank you, Dr Clarkson, for all your help."

"My pleasure."

Elsie wanted to lift her head to thank him but she was too exhausted from coughing to even try. She looked over to where Mrs Jones was showing the doctor out regardless of his insistence otherwise, leaving her in blissful solitude.

She closed her eyes, she could remember talking to Charles, him asking her if perhaps they could talk, her vague reply. Was that real or just another dream? Shifting slightly she winced as her joints ached in protest. Oh she was too tired to dwell on this, later she decided, she'd think on it later, seven days in bed would give her plenty of time to do that after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all the reviews :)**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

"I'm so glad that you're taking over dressing her Ladyship," Rose informed Elsie as she sat on the edge of her bed, her feet swinging back and forth.

Elsie shot her a small smile over her shoulder as she loosened the braid she'd kept her hair in overnight and began to pin it up, her fingers moving almost automatically in the familiar as she replied, "Her Ladyship is not that demanding."

"No, but I just cannot get the knack of the hairstyles she likes, I'll never be a ladies maid, that's for sure."

"Did you want to be a ladies maid?" Elsie asked, her tone rife with amusement.

Rose shuddered. "No, but then it's always nice to have options and that is one option certainly gone." She looked over to where Elsie was finishing getting ready for the day and noting the way her hand shook ever so slightly she frowned, asking, "Are you sure you're well enough to start again today?"

Elsie didn't so much as blink out of turn as she replied easily, "Absolutely, I'm only acting as a Lady's maid at the moment so it'll be the easiest day's work I've had in years."

"I know...but you were quite ill," Rose pointed out. "Even though you won't be doing any heavy lifting it might not be as easy as you think."

"It's been two weeks and I haven't even been allowed to stray much further than this room, I need to get back to work."

"Hmmm, well if you need any help you know where I am."

Securing the last hair pin into place, Elise smiled over her shoulder. "It's nice of you to offer, Rose, really it is."

"Least I can do, after all I don't have to see her Ladyship purse her lips at me anymore, or see the way her cheek twitches when she doesn't like what I've done." Straightening the edge of her apron, she added, "That and it has been odd without you, everyone's noticed and even Mr Carson has been acting strangely."

Turning at that, Elsie felt her heart start to race slightly and she fought to keep her voice even as she asked, "What do mean?"

Rose shrugged. "Well I'm not sure if it's because with you sick we were down a housemaid and a Lady's maid that wound him up, but he's been unbearable for the last few weeks." She tucked a stray strand of hair underneath her cap as she continued, "Nothing seems to good enough for him, so we should probably get going or we'll be late and he might bite our heads off."

Elsie rolled her eyes at that last comment, but her stomach still felt twisted into a knot. She was being foolish she told herself, why would Charles be so affected by her being unwell? It was most likely that Rose's words held more truth and he was more concerned about the running of the house. That after all was his concern, not the wellbeing of one insignificant housemaid, no Butler would run themselves into the ground worrying about that.

* * *

Charles hung back in his office, lingering a few minutes longer than usual. Elsie was due back at work today and he hadn't laid eyes upon her since the night they'd spoken in the kitchen. He wanted to give her time to get to the table, wanted to revert – if only partially – to the way it had once been, to when he looked down the table and saw her there, looking healthy and well.

He checked his pocket watch – he did not want to be suspiciously late after all - and decided he'd left time enough. His hand smoothed awkwardly over his jacket, a reflex action more than anything else as he opened the door and started the familiar walk to the serving hall. The usual scrape of chairs against the floor assaulted his ears and he looked down the table, unable to quite keep a small smile from gracing his lips when he saw Elsie. She was still rather pale, thinner than she had been, but she was alive and her blue eyes had a sparkle to them once more. They met with his for a second before she glanced away and he knew he had not imagined the smile on her face.

"You are back with us again then Elsie," he commented, it would have been considered stranger for him not to great her after so long.

"I am."

"Good," He remarked as he took his seat at the table, allowing the rest of the staff to follow suit. "As long as you haven't returned too soon, we don't want you getting sick again."

Mrs Jones lowered her tea cup from her pursed lips, telling him tightly, "I did suggest she take another week off, but she refused to hear of it. I have however insisted that she undertakes light duties only."

"Very wise," Charles muttered, bringing his own cup to his mouth when he saw Elsie's scowl of frustration in an effort to stop himself from chuckling. His eyes met hers once more when she looked over at him and gave a small exasperated shake of her head. Having her back here again, having her smile at him again made him feel as though the months of agony had been worth it. Everything was worth it so long as she was well and by his side.

* * *

Cora tilted her head back and forth and nodded in satisfaction at her hair. "Perfect," she sighed softly. She twisted on her chair and told her, "It is nice to have you back."

"It's nice to be back, Milady."

"I hope Mrs Jones and Mr Carson are letting you ease your way back in slowly."

"They are, I've been warned I'm not even to attempt to do anything extra."

"Good." Cora nodded in satisfaction. "I do suppose that I'll need to find someone to replace you soon it's not fair to expect you to do both jobs long term, especially as we're heading to London for the season this year."

"I can step in for as long as you require me to, Milady," Elsie told her firmly. "What happened was a blip, it won't happen again."

Cora gave a small, quiet laugh. "You sound so sure of that."

"I am, I don't get sick...well not normally."

"Well when you did, you certainly didn't do it half-heartedly." Cora perused her dressing table, trying to decide on the jewellery she wanted to wear for the day as she told Elsie, "Anyway I don't want you to risk getting sick again, so I've set up the interviews for two weeks time, Mrs Jones thinks it will be at least a few weeks on top of that before we can get anyone to start, so that should give you plenty of time to get back to full strength before you return to your housemaid duties."

"I am very grateful for the thoughtfulness you and Mrs Jones have shown, but I feel that I could go back to my housemaid duties before then."

"I won't hear of it and no-one expects you to." Cora pointed out the jewellery she wanted, commenting as Elsie picked up the necklace, "The staff were all very subdued when you were unwell, even Mr Carson seemed affected by it all." She noticed how Elsie's fingers fumbled on the catch at her words, and Cora couldn't help the small smile that curved her lips as the necklace was draped around her neck, she knew she'd been right about this, there was definitely something happening here.

* * *

Her footsteps were quick on the stairs, she was always so light footed Charles thought to himself, some of maids stomped about the downstairs corridors as though they were trying to make up for having to be so quiet on the floors above. With Elsie however you'd never know that she was approaching unless you were actively listening for her, which he was.

Stepping into view, he saw her stop, her eyes meeting his and for once she looked so unsure of herself. "Can I help you, Mr Carson?" she asked quietly.

""I was wondering if I might have a word with you," he told her. "In my office," he added hurriedly.

"Of course." Elsie followed him down the corridor, her mind whirring. She'd spent the last few weeks trying to piece together what had really happened that evening between them and what had been a fever induced dream, and still she remained unsure, so uncertain. Still whatever was said they had to clear the air.

She stepped into his office, shutting the door with a small click behind herself, meeting his intense gaze, feeling her heart almost stutter in her chest as she did so. Seconds passed and he didn't say anything, his eyes scanning over her before he suddenly took a step forward and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly, his mouth pressing against her forehead for a brief moment.

He hadn't been able to stand back any longer, he'd wanted to tell her how grateful he was that she was well, that he'd prayed every night for her to make it through this, that he'd been such a damnable fool and he'd never be so foolish again. But the words stuck in his throat and he couldn't find the way to voice them and he saw as her expression began to grow uneasy and unable to take it anymore he had stepped forward and drew her tightly to him.

Her hands slid to his back, returning the embrace as he kissed her forehead. "I am very glad to see you," he finally got out as he drew back slightly.

She smiled at him, pushing a strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead back as she replied, "And I am very glad to see you."

Charles grasped her hand. "I'm not always very good at expressing what I feel, but Elsie I have been very...concerned about you and it has made me realise what is important to me."

Her fingers curled into his palms, caressing the skin as she admitted quietly, "I know that we spoke the night I was taken ill...but I can't remember what was said...how we left things exactly. My mind is fuzzy on the specifics."

"Ah." A frown crossed his features. "We did not really settle anything," he admitted. "Rather I found out I'd thrown away everything we had in an attempt to save my own pride. You were unwell and so we left it at that."

"I do remember bits of the conversation," she admitted. "But I wasn't sure if my mind was playing tricks on me."

His fingers brushed over her cheek. "You have lost weight."

"I'll put it back on soon enough, I expect," she replied as she leaned into his caress, she had missed this, missed him.

"I was...worried about you," he told her. "I never want to feel like that again, I wanted to be with you and I only had myself to blame for the fact that I wasn't."

"I think we were both to blame really." She didn't want to remove herself from his embrace but she did feel that they had to face the truth that was staring them both in the face. "Things have changed a great deal from a few months ago though and we cannot ignore that."

"No, of course not but-"

There was the sound of plates crashing from the kitchen, and the cook screeching at Beryl, her irritation palpable. Their hands slipped apart. "This is not the best place for this," Elsie muttered. "I have no reason to be here, if we are caught..."

"We do need to talk though, there is a great deal I must say."

"I'm not sure where we can talk...walking together is out of the question, unless we arrange a place to meet and sneak out separately."

"No, you haven't been well and I won't drag you out into the cold night air. We could meet in the attic," he suggested, slightly surprised that the words had slipped from his mouth, such a scandalous suggestion, so dishonourable.

"I never thought I'd see the day the proper Charles Carson suggested such behaviour," she laughed. "But yes, I suppose that is the best option, as you say we do need to talk. I'll meet you there tonight when everyone else is in bed."

"Wrap up warmly," he reminded her.

"Of course, I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't." She took a small step back, telling him, "I'll see you later then."

He nodded, unsure how exactly he'd be able to wait until then.


	7. Chapter 7

**Last chapter, which I think might surprise people but I've resolved what I left open in Still Waters and while there may in the future be more from this universe for the moment it's stopping here. Otherwise it could just go on forever.**

**I'll be back with something new soon though.**

* * *

Charles finished his work swiftly that night, did not once stop to stare at the wall for a second, did not allow his mind to wander, knowing that Elsie was waiting for him. He locked up the house, grateful that the staff retired to their beds slightly earlier on the cold winter nights. Finally his tasks were completed and he made his way quickly up the multiple flights of stairs to the attic, his stomach in his throat as he pondered what welcome he'd receive. After all things between them were not as they'd once been.

The door let out a small creak as he pushed it open and slipped inside the dim room, trying to keep his footsteps light as he rounded the corner. Elsie was already there, her robe wrapped around her and an extra throw draped over her knees, she smiled up at him and patted at a space on the blanket next to her. "I wondered how long you'd be," she admitted.

"I finished as quickly as I could, I did not want to leave you waiting up here."

She gave a soft shrug. "I've not been waiting long, I had to wait until Rose fell asleep after all."

"And she wake up at all?" he enquired worriedly as he sat down, unsure of just how close he should sit next to her.

"No, Rose sleeps like the dead so we don't have to worry about that." Her hand rested over his. "You look tense," she told him. "Almost as though you think I'm going to march you to the guillotine...which I'm not," she added after a moment.

"No, of course not," he replied stiltedly. All the excitement he'd felt about their meeting tonight had drained from him, leaving him feeling unconfident and unsure. They'd agreed to talk and yet he could not seem to find the words to say. Her head tilted as she watched him, her hand resting over his.

"We did say we needed to talk," Elsie reminded him softly, seeing that he seemed to have been struck dumb.

"Yes." Charles cleared his throat, lifting his eyes so that they met hers. "We did."

When he didn't expand on that point, Elsie sighed and told him, "I'm not sure if we're going to work." Her eyes pulled away from his as she continued, "Not now, it's too complicated."

Her hand was still resting on his but he felt almost numb to her touch, she was going to slip away from him, if he didn't say something, convince her otherwise. Still though his tongue remained glued to the roof of his mouth and he simply watched the way she delivered her blows calmly and concisely.

"It will be easier this time though," Elsie continued, trying to make herself believe the words as she said them. "We can clear the air tonight and then...carry on."

"No," he finally got out, turning his hand so that he could clasp her hand in his grasp, he shook his head and repeated firmly, "No. I realised when you were unwell that I do not want us to spend any more time apart than we have to. We can make adjustments, make it work."

Elsie shook her head. "It's not like before, you're the Butler now, if we were caught-"

"We wouldn't be," he interrupted her. "We could leave service."

"And do what? I have little in the way of savings."

"I have some, perhaps not enough to start a shop but perhaps we could speak to his Lordship, he does own most of the village after all."

"That might have been realistic thought when you were valet but he will not be impressed when you announce you want to marry a lowly housemaid. The scandal will be immense, you must know that, we would have to leave Downton and we simply do not have the means to start from scratch somewhere else. I mean what kind of reference would we be given if we left together?" Elsie told him, fretting slightly now.

"We...we would find a way," Charles tried to reassure her, but his words were less sure now. He had left service once before and he could remember worrying how he would find the money for his rent every month, he did not want to subject Elsie to that, did not want to be the type of man who was unable to support his own wife, but neither could he just let her slip away from him.

"Could we?" Elsie met his gaze for a moment, she had lived through being a farmer's daughter, when your livelihood depended on the unpredictable nature of the land. She didn't want to return to that life, here she...they had certainty, out there they had nothing.

"It might be difficult for a while," he admitted. "But we would never regret it, I'm sure of that."

"Are you? You've worked so hard and done so well to get where you are and you are so close to the family that...well I'm worried that you would grow to resent me."

"I could never resent you," Charles tried to assure her, he cupped her chin, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone.

"Really? When we have to live in a cramped room and work all hours to bring home a pittance you won't look at me and wonder what possessed you to walk away from position, from a life of comfort.?" He hesitated with his reply and she concluded sadly, "Exactly."

She made to pull away and he stopped her, tugging gently at her hands. "I do not wish this to end, I am not good with words but what I feel for you...I cannot just let it go, not again."

"There is nothing to end, not this time," she whispered.

"Perhaps it's not quite what it was, but it's certainly not nothing."

Her eyes scanned his face, his earnest expression, the feel of his hands gripping hers. "No," her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears. "No it's not. You mean the world to me, Charles."

"Then we should not just let it slip away from us."

"I just don't think we should throw away everything we've worked for, not if we're not certain we would be able to survive."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"That we stay where we are. Be honest with yourself Charles, if I had not been unwell you would not have suggested this."

He bristled slightly at her words. "I suggested that we talk before you took ill," he pointed out.

"You did," Elsie acknowledged, "But would you have suggested such a drastic move?"

Charles clamped his lips tightly together, no he told himself, he would not have made such a bold proposal so quickly if the fear of having almost lost her were not driving him. "That does not make my words any less sincere," he finally replied.

She smiled at him softly. "No, perhaps not but we are not foolish teenagers, we should know better than to run away in the middle of the night."

"I never said anything about the middle of the night," he rebuked, teasing her lightly. He tugged her slightly closer to him. "But since you are so against the idea what do you suggest we do?"

"We wait, there is no harm in picking up our courtship from where we last left it. In time if we wish it we might have saved enough to leave service together, without a cloud of disgrace and poverty hanging over us."

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to ensure your virtue for that length of time," he admitted candidly.

Elsie smiled, her fingers toying with the top button of his waistcoat as she replied coyly, "We do not have to wait."

He took in a deep shuddering breath in an attempt to steel himself. "You know that I do not wish to ruin you."

"You would not be ruining me," she replied as her fingers deftly undid the rest of his buttons, pushing the waistcoat off his broad shoulders.

"We have made no promises to one another," he pointed out, his fingers twitching against her hips as he fought not to let his hands drift to the bottom of her nightgown, to drag it up her ankles and calves, bare her to his view.

"I do not need to stand in a church or wear a ring to know that you will always stand by me." She reached down and took his hand in hers once again. "Charles, I know the future I talk of is not certain, I do not know where we shall be in ten years but I know that baring some catastrophe I shall be by your side. Whether that be here, in a shop we run together or living in disgrace together. Although," she admitted, "I would prefer it not to be the latter."

"As would I," he told her with a chuckle. "Elsie, I promise you that I will not make the same mistake as before, you need only name a day and I would happily make an honest woman of you."

Her smile brightened her eyes, her pale cheeks flushing with pleasure at his words. She knew that he found it difficult to voice his feelings but the fact that he'd overcome that this once to tell her what he felt made her realise that he would bend over backwards to see to her comfort. "Then there shall be no more concerns about my virtue then?"

"I believe I shall always be concerned about your virtue," he confided, his fingers dragging her nightgown up to her thighs, unsure exactly when she lost her robe but acutely aware that it was gone now.

"Well it is yours to be concerned with," she teased as she stripped him of his shirt and vest, kissing his neck softly, sucking gently at his pulse point.

He gave a groan as his fingertips grazed the soft, welcoming skin of her thighs. "I do not want to push you into anything if you are not fully recovered," he forced out as he made himself stop pulling the gown off her completely.

"I am perfectly well, Charles, I won't break." She laid back, reaching out for him.

He could do nothing else but give in to her, she was too much of a temptation, her dark hair strewn over her shoulders, her night gown rucked up to mid-thigh. Covering her with his body he stroked his fingers across her face once more before lowering his mouth to hers. For months he had dreamt of kissing her, of tasting her once again. It was as though they'd never been apart and yet it was as exciting as the very first time. His lips brushed against hers, the contact slight and fleeting at first and it was Elsie who deepened the kiss, her hands pulling him closer as the passion between them grew fiercer.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her skirt bunching up around the top of her thighs. His lips were warm and firm and she could taste the lingering remains of the wine. Breaking the kiss she murmured against his mouth, "Have you been raiding the wine cellar, Mr Carson?"

"I may have had a sip for dutch courage," he admitted to her, his fingers trailing down her neck and along her collarbone, feeling her press upwards into his touch.

"Just so you could face me? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted," she teased.

"Most definitely flattered," Charles assured her as he felt her nimble fingers dispense with his belt, pushing his trousers and undershorts down until he was able to kick them from around his ankles.

He could no longer stand it, and he pulled her plain, chaste gown from her, his hands ghosting over the curves of her hips, sweeping round to her stomach and moving upwards, cupping her breasts, kissing the soft, full flesh before pulling the nipple into his mouth, teasing her with his tongue as his fingers mimicked the movements on its twin. Elsie's fingers curled into his hair as she let out a soft moan of approval.

His thumb circled the thin skin of her hipbone as he switched sides, savouring the taste of her skin, feeling her start to grow warmer under his touch. He lifted his head, looking at the flush that had spread across her chest.

Elsie coaxed him up to her again, kissing him deeply as she told him, "I have missed you, Charles. I have missed this." She smoothed her hands over his strong, broad shoulders as she added, "Do not stop tonight, please do not stop."

He could deny her nothing, but he did not want her to regret anything that might happen and so he asked her quietly, "Are you sure?"

"I have never been more certain of anything. We've made our promises after all."

He smiled down at her. "We have, but I we will not rush this. I want to be sure of your enjoyment."

She arched her eyebrow. "So long as you realise that we do not have all night."

Charles chuckled as he lifted off her slightly, his hands cupping her ankle, pressing a kiss to it as he replied, "I did hope to have you begging for me not to stop, regardless of what time it is."

She squirmed at his words and as his lips trailed up from her calf to her inner thigh. Her breath caught as his tongue flickered against her now hypersensitive skin and the thought of him moving that tiny bit higher, of the pleasure she knew it would bring her, but instead he switched legs, starting the process again.

By the time he reached the top of her thighs again she was desperate, she felt his breath against her and moaned. Firm hands shifted her legs, pushing them apart as he settled between them, and then his mouth was on her and she cried out as he expertly toyed with her, his tongue hot and insistent against her. Her body writhed on the throw, a thin sheen of sweat now covering her body as one hand tangled into the material next to her, the other pressed against his head encouraging him.

His hands slid up her stomach and he covered her breasts with them, continuing to tease them as his mouth continued to move against her.

Elsie felt her muscles start to twitch and her breath caught and she became acutely aware that she did want to beg him not to stop. Then his tongue hit her from a slightly different angle and she was gasping, as the pleasure starting to build to a fever pitch, her neck arching, fingers gripping the sheets beneath her until her knuckles were turning white. She was too hot, her skin burning, her stomach tightening. She inhaled sharply, the sound a tortured moan of pleasure as she felt her muscles begin to tighten, she was almost over the edge when he stopped. "No," she moaned unthinkingly. "Charles, please."

He laughed against the flesh of her thigh, kissing there instead. "Not yet," he told her deeply. He moved up her body, kissing his way up, as his fingers continued to circle against the top of her thighs. He kissed her nipples once more, nipped at her neck before pulling her bottom lip into his mouth.

He kissed her deeply as his fingers slid against her wetness, pushing one and then two fingers into her, pressing upwards, rubbing against her, scissoring them slightly in an effort to make the next part easier on her. His thumb nudging against that sensitive numb, teasing around it, pressing against it and then edging away, forever keeping her close to the edge.

Elsie's fingers pressed into his back as she moaned into his mouth, she could not take much more. She could barely breath for desperation, he had to end this, much more and she would go mad, every time she was about to experience that last rush of pleasure he would stop, wait a few moments and then start again. She pressed her mouth to his ear. "Please Charles, I cannot-" He crooked his fingers again and she could not hold back moan. Her hips moved with his hand and as she felt herself come close once again she reached down, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, hoping that she could stop him from pulling away. Her grip tightened as she hurtled towards the edge once more, her back arching upwards and yet still he stopped, his hand easily pulling free of her grasp. "No!" She protested, wrapping her arms and legs around him, pressing her breasts into his chest, moaning as he slid against her, the blunt head of him pressing against her. Fevered for him and almost dizzy with want she arched her hips upwards. "Please," she urged him again.

He couldn't take anymore, he throbbed and ached from listening to her breathy cries and pleas, from the way she writhed under him. He couldn't wait, his fingers speared into her hair, his mouth on hers as he pressed forward, fully sheathed in her, smothering his groan in her hair.

She winced as her muscles stretched in a way entirely unfamiliar to her. It was uncomfortable more than painful, but she was unsure as to why everyone made such a fuss about this. Charles lifted his head, asking "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she told him, managing a slightly unsteady smile. "It's fine."

His mouth quirked at that as he murmured, "Just fine, well we'll have to do something about that."

She was so warm and tight around him it had taken all his self control to stay still, to give her time to adjust. He rocked his hips experimentally, not wanting to hurt her and heard her gasp against his ear. "Better?"

"Yes," she admitted, her hips moving with him. He stretched her, and when he moved it had rubbed against her in a way that was unlike anything else she'd ever felt. He moved again, his strokes longer and deeper this time and she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist as she fought to move her hips in rhythm with his.

She felt his muscles slide underneath his skin as they rocked together. His fingers slid between them, rubbing against her as his thrusts became shorter and more hurried until he was pounding into her, his breathing harsh. Her head rolled to one side as her stomach tightened, and she clung to him, the pleasure, deeper, more intense than it had been before.

Her muscles fluttered around him and he gritted his teeth as he fought to keep his control just a little longer. Finally her body clenched around him, spasming and pulling at his flesh as she cried out against his shoulder, her movements frantic. As she sagged back onto the throw, he pulled himself free, spilling himself outside of her, his head buried in her hair as he let out a low groan of pleasure.

Elsie wound herself around him, letting him draw the throw over them, her fingers tracing patterns over the strong wall of his chest. His eyes met hers and he asked her hoarsely, "Did you mean what you said? About us."

She smiled as she assured him, "Charles, no matter where we end up I'll be by your side."

He held her close, kissing her forehead. "Good," he murmured. "Good."

* * *

She did stay by his side and he by hers. They never did leave service, he enjoyed his work and she felt safer for the security they had. Occasionally she would mourn what they'd never had but then she'd tell herself it obviously wasn't meant to be. And of course they had had there ups and downs, their heartaches and difficulties but they had never let it break them.

In the end it might not have been a romance that would write novels, they were both too level headed for that. The world was a cruel, harsh place and they would have been fools to spurn good careers to live in poverty for the sake of a wedding ring, although she knew that even years later Charles was plagued by the idea that should the truth ever come out she would be spurned. She was not as worried, they could simply retire now, marry and live out their days in peace together.

Until they day they left Downton hand in hand though, she was content with her lot in life. She loved and was loved in return and as she met Charles' small smile at breakfast as he passed her her morning cup of tea she knew she would not change any of her life.


End file.
